July Words
Happy summer peeps! It’s been raining almost daily for 3 months in Boulder and the landscape is LUSH. It’s a weird catch 22 because, of course, sunshine is amazing but wildflowers and bright green grass have painted the foothills in a colorscape that is hard to be anything but obsessed with. This rich healthy landscape doesn’t exist here without near constant rain. We live just east of the Rocky Mountain foothills so looking straight down our street is a picture-perfect view of green rocky rolling hills that rise to gray snow-capped mountains. Those rocky rolling hills are so vibrant and incredible looking, they could pass as a Bob Ross. My brain has learned to crave the freshness of the view. It almost makes me wish the rain would last through the fall. Strolling through the farmers market it is also clear how monumental this wet season has been. The vendor tables are always plentiful but something about the farmers is different this year. They aren’t as worn out. This gift of rain has brought a lot of relief and eased the workload a bit. Working in 72 degree days versus 90 degrees is a relief we can all appreciate. Though there are challenges that come with the added moisture. Nickel sized hail destroyed tender foliage a month ago and although it has bounced back it was a disaster when the skies opened and dumped 2 inches of ice in June.
When you think about everything that goes into a meal, the cooking part is by far the easiest part of the entire process. Someone has done all the hard work before the tomato reaches the cutting board. What we, the cooks and eaters, are left with is a perfectly ripe piece of inspiration to play with and enjoy. What came before was planned, calculated, tended, harvested, packaged, and transported. Thinking through this process has really helped me make better choices when buying out of season food. We should be eating the fruits of the labor in the moment they are their best. A juicy western-slope peach that has never seen refrigeration is more of a spiritual experience than it is a snack. Aaron, chef husband, and I were reminiscing on our time at Girl & the Goat. We were each eating a piece of stone fruit and were talking about stone fruit season in Chicago restaurants. How a stolen plum off a sheet tray can be sucked clean off its pit without ever needing to use your teeth. You’ll need a napkin of course because the juices are free flowing. The fruit we used to enjoy came from old growth orchards in Michigan and their experience from growth to restaurant sheet tray was the most minimally invasive process that they arrived, ripe, juicy, warm from the sun and without a blemish. I’m sure my snack breaks cost the restaurant at least $50 a week in stolen stone fruit but I don’t regret it. My 60 hours a week of salaried work certainly made up for it. Chef life, a beautiful dramatized, hard sell.
To connect with our food outside of our kitchens is to appreciate the magic that is growth and hard work. One year when I was a kid, my dad successfully grew one single stalk of asparagus in his garden. He was so proud of it, he just let it grow to 3 feet tall and never harvested it. It was only to be admired. I’ll never forget that lone woody grass-like stalk and the effort that went into it becoming a reality. The man is now a farmer so maybe it was as inspiring to him as well. My own child is growing to be such a food enthusiast that she regularly asks for a piece of bread and she means homemade sourdough, not plastic bag white. She helps me bake it and she loves it in a way I could have never imagined. Add fresh jam to that bread and she lets her head hang back, her eyes close and a very adorable “mm mmm mmmm!” leave her throat. If we all did our best to eat “closer to home” we would discover just how good the food around us is and how important the community of growers we live amongst are. I intimately understand that a fully local diet is neither affordable nor readily available for all but to eat in season is possible, at least on a small scale. Connecting to our environment and supporting the people who work the hardest to bring us the nourishment we need is both rewarding to our bodies and spirits. Think of a time that you experienced fresh produce in a memorable way. Maybe you had a late spring strawberry, a foraged morel, a tomato that may look underripe until you taste is and realize it’s green in its ripest form. These are the elements of food that we need to support and defend because these are elements of nature that are delicate. I encourage you to find a farmers market and browse if only for inspiration but if possible grab a bag full of goodies that will help you connect with the environment in which you live. You will not be disappointed.
This month’s menu will be vegetable and fruit heavy but chock full of flavor! We’re going to use the grill to get the absolute most out of our food, high heat, low intervention!
A wine to love: Gulp Hablo Orange - Light, refreshing, orange, minerally, best served overly chilled right out of the ice bucket
Corn, Avocado and Chimichurri Salad